Singh has been on the police force for almost 10-years, but he still finds it difficult to speak with the victim’s family. His phone rings. He connects the phone with the car’s stereo system and answers the call.

 

“Hello, Lee. I am driving right now. Can we talk later?”

 

“Sorry Captain, but this is urgent,” Lee answers, “The news channels are really driving the public opinion against us.”

 

“What happened now?”

 

“Our favorite Lisa Carter is live and is leaving no opportunities to attack you publically.”

 

“What is new about that?”

 

“Higher ups want some leads this week.”

 

Singh kicks the break as hard as he can, “What? Are you fucking kidding me?”

 

“It is Widow Maker’s tenth kill after all. The mayor cannot handle any more bad press nor will the families of the victims will wait any longer?”

 

“Sounds to me, Lee that you are my captain,” Singh jokes, “We are going to speed things up from here. Check every past record and see if you find any pattern or missing link ignored in previous investigations.”

 

“Now you are acting like a Captain.” Lee puts down the phone and gets to work.

 

Singh tightens the tie around his neck. As if the faith wanted it, Singh’s car stopped right in front of Thorne's house, the house of the tenth victim. He buttons his blazer. The door opens before he can knock.

 

“Yes?” Mrs. Thorne asks.

 

Singh closes his eyes and breathes out to control his anxiety, ”I am Captain Singh from AHPD.”

 

“Is my husband alright?” Mrs. Thorne asks without wasting any second.

 

Wow! She went Right to the point. How should I answer this? “Ma’am your husband was attacked last night-“

 

“Captain is he alright!?”

Her daughter also joins her worried mother. She keeps her hand on Mrs. Thorne’s shoulder. “Ma’am, your husband was murdered last night.”

 

The news of her husbands’ death hits Mrs. Thorne to the core. Her heart skips several beats and she trips on the entrance as she cries for the love of her life.

 

“Mom please calm down.”

 

“Please take her inside. I will come by some other time-”

 

“No,” Mrs. Thorne says, “Please,” she wipes the tears on her face, “Tell me, will my husband’s death become one of those unsolvable cases?”

 

Singh stares at her tearful eyes not with remorse or pity but with hope, “No. I will catch the bastard,” he says. His aura turns into a murderous black color which only a magician can perceive.

 

Singh clenches his fist and controls it, “Do you mind meeting me in the afternoon?” the daughter asks. Singh nods and leaves in his car.

 

~~~

 

“FUCK! FUCK! FUCK!” Singh swears.

 

“You are not in a good mood, are you?” Barker asks as he takes a big chunk of the boiled egg, “Did something happened in the victim’s house?”

 

“Yeah! His wife cried.”

 

“And?”

 

“I promised her that I will catch her husband’s killer.”

 

“Ooh! That is a problematic promise.”

 

“Yes, it is. Now if you had your breakfast, can we go and investigate about the weapon?”

 

“We will need a list of all the weaponsmiths in this city, have to meet some District Black officials to interrogate some high profile smiths.”

 

“District Black can wait tonight. FIRST! Tell me what do you want for your birthday present: a watch or a black scarf though I guess the answer is obvious.”

 

“We have a case to worry about.”

 

“I knew it. You will also have an angry daughter to worry about if you won’t attend your surprise party?” Singh answers.

 

“If it is a surprise party then why did you spilled this out?”

 

“I know you too well and you wouldn’t have come if I would have never told you about this earlier. Now you can’t disagree.” Barker opens his mouth but does not speak a word. Barker chuckles, “That is new.”

 

“BIG BEN! YOU COMING!?” Barker loudly asks.

 

“YES!” A loud answer comes from a big 7ft 6-inch tall chef of Café Huckleberry. His round belly almost peeks through buttons coat. His hair is messy making the two customers wonder if any strand of the hair entered their food, “Where by the way?”

 

“Tina sent you an invitation, didn’t she?” Singh asks.

 

“Wait a minute- MARTHA!” Big Ben goes to the kitchen, “HAVE WE RECEIVED ANY INVITATION?”

 

“YEAH?” His wife answers.

 

“Like I was saying, many weaponsmiths are protected by District Black. So it will be beneficial for us to get their permission sooner than later,” Hound says. Big Ben comes with a plate of hamburger and lime soda, “She mixed it with the piles of bills, didn’t she?”

 

“I won’t blame her for this,” Big Ben answers, “She is more capable than me, but she married a lazy oaf.”

 

“No doubt about that.”

 

“Happy Birthday Barker!” Ben keeps the plate on the table, “Meal is on us.” Big Ben leaves earlier to prepare a fine suit for himself.

 

“Let me finish my supper and then we will go to meet Xander.”

 

“And he will be so happy to see you,” Singh says sarcastically.

 

~~~

 

Lee swallows some herbs. The herb is a big pale pink colored flower which survived the drought. He immediately drinks a water to reduce the pain in his throat. He loudly coughs.

 

“Are you alright?” Jazz asks.

 

“Yes. Yes. Uhm. I hate sour medicines,” Lee replies. He hides a bag inside his desk, “My tongue really can’t handle sour food. So anyways, anything you found in our case?”

 

“finding and arresting the culprit is your job. Don’t expect anything from me,” Jazz answers.

 

Lee chuckles, “You are still trying to grasp on this magical problem, aren’t you?” Jazz’s phone rings. “Ooh! Jazz loves Jazz.”

 

“Hello?”

 

“Jazz. It's Singh here. How long will it take to prepare the autopsy report?”

 

“This ain’t no episode of CSI.”

 

“Okay. Tch. Do we still have the mobile phone’s of our previous nine victim’s?”

 

“Probably. Why?”

 

“I can understand if first two victims repeat the pattern, but before the third murder, the rumors were spread about the widow-maker alley,” Singh says, “So why did they went to that alley knowing about the consequences beforehand?”

 

“I will ask the storage unit for those mobile phones,” Jazz replied, “Meanwhile you should be in front of the camera. The public is panicking.”

 

“Don’t worry. I will figure it out,” Singh answers. He hangs up the call. In frustration, he punches the steering wheel.

 

“You should invite Jazz as well to the party,” Barker says while reading Ender’s Game.

 

“I thought you were not excited about your birthday party?”

 

“It will be a good opportunity to know her better if we will be working in the future.”

 

“You can find opportunities everywhere, can’t you?” Singh asks.

 

“Think of your life as a car-“

 

“Not again with the metaphors. Life is a car, Opportunities are taking the correct turn while Threats mean you crashed. Now how is this statement applied to Jazz?”

 

“-because I had an insurance.”

 

Singh keeps his hand on his forehead and starts laughing, “Lamest joke I ever heard from your mouth,” Both the men laugh loudly. “Fucking lame.”

 

“Lamest joke on the planet?”

 

“The most fucking lamest joke in the history of lamest jokes.”

 

Throughout the way to the Dim Light Bar, they keep cursing this joke. When was the last time they laughed like this? Probably never. They shouldered a lot of pain and tragedy on their shoulders after all.

 

~~~

 

This part of the city has a sad and pale side where walls are broken or started to blister. While some walls are painted with abstracts and graffitis.

 

“I thought no one lived in this part of the town,” Singh reacts.

 

“Youngsters from various parts of the town come and wander here in their free time. For them, this place is their utopia,” Barker answers, “And also no parents, no police, and no surveillance so-” Barker answers.

 

“You know you shouldn't have told me that?”

 

Both the men enter the bar where many wizards, vampires, werewolves, zombies, and nagas are enjoying drinks. The place is noisy where many of them are dancing to the country songs played by the centaurs.

 

“Also this is where many people from various species can gather safely without worrying about getting killed,” Barker says.

 

“Amazing,” Singh is amused by this arrangement. Everyone in the bar is smiling and enjoying each other presence forgetting like they don’t care about hundred years of war between the clans.

 

“So why are we here?”

 

“Hello, Jin,” Barker greets the old Japanese man behind the bar.

 

“Konichiwa Barker-kun,” Jin replies. Jin is only a foot smaller than Barker. He is a thin man with slightly tanned skin.

 

“This is my friend, Singh,” Barker introduces Singh to the bartender.

 

“Hello,” Singh greets while offering his hand for a handshake. Jin does not react and stands still. In confusion, Singh turns to Barker and asks, “Why isn’t he saying anything?”

 

“It is his policy. You have to greet him in your native language,” Barker answers.

 

“You should have told me that earlier,”

 

“It is still not too late to make an impression.”

 

“NAMASTE,” Singh greets in Hindi.

 

“Konichiwa Singh-san, care for a drink?” Jin asks.

 

“A beer please.”

 

“Wait, what?”

 

“You know I can’t stand him when I am sober,” Barker gulps his drink in one sip, “I am not an alcoholic, but he is just too annoying. One more, please.”

“Wait, don’t give him more,” Unfortunately, Singh’s requested too late since Barker is drinking his second glass of beer.

 

Barker stands up. He topples. Singh grabs him before he can fall. Barker chuckles, “I am alright! I am alright!” Barker puts his arm around Singh’s shoulder and both of them starts walking.

 

“I thought your alcohol tolerance is high?” Singh asks.

 

“Alcohol tolerance of every wizard is high, but not when Jin makes a drink. His hands have magic-“ Barker chuckles.

 

Both the men get out the of the bar, “Where are we going now?”

 

“Turn to the alley to the left. There is a fire escape,”

 

“Gotcha.”

 

Singh and Barker start walking again. Barker stands straight. He insists on walking on his own, “I can walk now. I am alright.”

 

“You sure?”

 

“Yes.”

 

“Okay then.”

 

Both of them climb to the third floor. The fence was removed and a shutter door replaced the window. Singh notices the salt barrier below his foot. Singh glances at Barker, giving him the cop vibe.

 

“If I find anything-“

 

“You will start arresting them. I know, I know. Now don’t give me that look. Help me with the shutter.”

 

Barker bends and holds the lock, “Make your aura flow through these locks,” Barker orders.

 

“You know I don’t like to-“

 

“I am not asking you to cast a mantra.”

 

Singh gasps and follows Barker’s orders. The nerves in his left-hand shine in a bright white color light and white translucent smokey light leaks. The lock clicks open. Singh leaves the lock and wraps a handkerchief around his hand.

 

Barker unlocks his side of the lock and says, “Come on.”

 

“It hurts,” Singh says with his face clearly showing the pain and discomfort.

 

“Then it means that you are not practicing magic lately,” Barker points out.

Singh opens the shutter, “Just get in.”

 

The hall is filled with many small time sellers and traders who set up stalls for potions, talisman, totems, charms, weapons, and creatures. The place even had a stall for fake blood drinks called Plus-O.

 

On the other side, some buyers were bidding for some rare artifacts that make its way to the middle class once in a while, usually through heists.

 

In the middle of the hall, there was a counter full of junks, paper, and even some old school electronics. A boy is standing on the bench shouting, “WELCOME TO THE AMBER MARKET! GET YOUR HANDS ON THE BEST!”

 

“RICHIE!” Barker shouts the boy’s name.

 

Richie happily jumps from the bench to greet the two men, “Hello fellas! How have you been doing?” Barker walks calmly and immediately slams Ritchie’s head on the table, “That is some fancy greeting.”

 

“What the fuck-“ A golem tries to attack the two gentlemen, but Singh holds him at the gunpoint.

 

“Don’t. Even. Try.”

 

“A night before yesterday, I heard a voice from Tina’s room around 1:10 am. Do you have any idea about that?”

“No Mr. Barker, I swear-“

 

Barker slams his head again on the table, “I love my daughter and she will be sad if you die.”

 

“Is he drunk?” Richie asks Singh.

 

“He might have some glasses at Jim’s,” Singh answers.

 

“That explains it,”

 

“Richie! Focus here,” Barker says.

 

The customers and vendors alike start to stare at them. Singh suggests Ritchie, “Let’s not create a scene here.”

 

“Fine. I was in her room. She called me there. I swear Mr. Barker, I won’t do this again,” Richie pleads for forgiveness.

 

Barker leaves Richie’s head, “See! Was it so hard to say the truth!?”

 

“Trip. Please bring some painkillers, will you?” The giant golem standing beside Singh walks away.

 

“He is your familiar?” Singh asks.

 

“Sort of. SO how can I help you guys?” Richie asks as he sits on his favorite massage chair.

 

“With two things. First- never ever sneak into my house and second- give us the list of all the weaponsmiths in the city,” Barker says.

 

“Come on, Mr. Barker. Tina and I love each other,” Richie says.

 

“You can’t blame me for being a little cautious considering your line of work and your history with District Black,” Barker replies.

 

“That is a very good point. Why do you need that list again?” Richie changes the topic.

 

“Keep it down,” Singh says in whispers, “You know about the Widowmaker?”

 

“Who does not know?” Richie asks, “Wait, you think, Widowmaker is using a mystic tool.”

 

“We confirmed it,” Barker says and pulls out a bottle with faint gray smoke, “And it is a high-level tool consuming only 3 to 5 percent of aura.”

 

“3-5?” Richie shouts in surprise. He lowers his voice and asks, “You kidding me!?”

 

“You know what does it mean?” Singh asks.

“Listing out the names of famous and highly skilled weaponsmith won’t be a problem, but many of them are under the District Black’s protection. Once I pull out some information about them, they will trace me.”

 

“Don’t worry. We are working on your clearance,” Singh says and checks his watch.

 

“You need to meet someone?” Barker asks.

 

“The victim’s family.” Singh answers.

 

“Then I will sneak into the forensics office and have a look at the body again,” Barker says, “And you young boy, don’t tell Tina anything about this case.”

 

“My lips are sealed,” Richie ensures.

 

“Good.”

 

“AND DON’T BE LATE FOR THE PARTY.” Richie reminds him.

 

“Why does everyone keeps reminding me?”

 

 Singh pats his back and both of them leaves the Amber Market as the clock ticks 12:00.